


Turbulence

by Cadensaurus (orphan_account)



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, Existential Crisis, M/M, instead i just broke my own heart writing it, oh look i didn't write something ridiculously long for once
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-03 04:19:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5276369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Cadensaurus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Dan reflects on his life and finds himself weary of it, unsure of if he wishes it were different, of perhaps having regrets that he didn't realise he would have.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turbulence

**Author's Note:**

> There's some kind of glitch when I post that puts spaces after quotation marks when they start a paragraph - until I have the brains to go back and fix it, I apologise for that.

Dan's tired. He's tired from tour and he's tired from book signings and he's tired from something he can't quite put into words. He's just tired.

Phil's alive with energy, somehow. It's like he's not even worn down but Dan is tired and he wants to sleep for twelve hours straight but besides that, he's tired in a way that pulls deep down inside, at his soul.

He's only twenty-four years old but somehow he feels rusted, worn out by time. He's grown up a lot in the six years since he met Phil, since he started his youtube channel. He thinks he had to grow up too fast sometimes.

He went the non-traditional route. He didn't go to uni the way most of his friends did. He didn't fall into a nine to five job. He's not out at half past midnight on a Thursday when he should be in bed for that nine to five job trying to pull some bird.

He accidentally fell into this career and it's been amazing, it absolutely has, every single thing they've done, but this last year has been such a whirlwind of things, the gaming channel, the book, the tour. The only spontaneous thing they've done is that silly April Fool's video, where it was decided literally ten minutes before it was created, and it's one of the few times in the year that Dan didn't feel overwhelmed and rushed.

He felt this sort of coming on last year, perhaps. Felt it at twenty-three, creeping up his spine, how grandiose his life was, how sometimes it feels like he's playing adult and still too young, wondering if his more expensive purchases are justified because he's an adult with a career who can afford them or if they're the gaudy purchases of a youth who should be saving their money instead of spending it.

It's settled inside him in a way this last year, more and more. Crawling into his stomach and forming the hard, sharp, cold pit. The year felt like a whirlwind and Dan has felt rushed and a bit like he's standing on sand underneath tides, sand shifting under his feet that he can't quite keep his balance.

He's not felt this way since the video, the mishap, 2012, the way 2012 almost destroyed them and their relationship that they'd built up for the last three years, the relationship that had started but not quite been named before they'd even met, Skype calls.

Dan had felt alive, thrilled, caught up in the rush of it all and he hadn't felt tired at all. He'd been almost manic, perhaps, five hour Skype conversations because there was no way he could sleep when there was _Phil_ to talk to.

2009 had been a rush and Dan had taken it all in, let it suck him down, until he was practically drowning. 2010 had been even more amazing, their relationship growing tight and almost perfect (Dan had called it perfect back) and it had been enough to distract him from his own personal crises that he'd been having about life.

Things had been rolling along and Dan had been starting to think that maybe things would be okay, that it was all okay, when mid-September 2011, the famous Youtube glitch had happened and his own private world came spilling out for everybody to see, the thing that he'd been clinging to and that's when he had come to learn that no, perfection didn't exist, there was the flaw, the catch.

Stuffing it all down, all through 2012, when they almost broke up, when nights were filled with bitter almost-arguments, words laced with icy tones, words picked specifically to push and prick at each other in frustration, and then apologies not even a half hour later because it isn't them, that isn't them, and it was just the frustration getting the best of them and neither of them were absolved from it because Phil is the kindest person that Dan knows but even he has his limits and Dan has pushed them and found them and let Phil's words mark him up inside.

They'd gotten the show with the BBC and moved to London and it was the start of the rush but Dan didn't know it yet. It just felt like some incredible opportunity – it really was and still is – and he'd ridden the crest of the excitement, almost giddy, and at the same time, it was tense, fragile, like something about to break because they were only starting to repair the fracture of their relationship, and the show had basically forced them to cement it back together, perhaps knitting the wound shut before it was fully healed, and for a little while longer in private, they'd hobbled.

They'd struggled on through to 2013 and it got easier. It felt like they could breathe again despite all the attention to their relationship now. It felt like maybe a fresh start, a new year, and things settled. He'd hit one million, then two million subscribers. His popularity had exploded and he'd been a little punch-drunk on the excitement, when it all began.

That's when it had really started, his life rushing forward. They'd started hosting shows and Dan had fallen headfirst into that life with Phil, who was equally excited but perhaps wiser than Dan, in private wondering what it might mean for them now.

They'd finally really gotten their footing back together and were starting to open back up to the world with it, their relationship finally settling back to what it was, except now it was different, it was still private but somehow it was a little worn-down and sad, with the knowledge of yes, this has to be a secret for a while longer, because Dan wasn't ready and if Dan wasn't ready then Phil wasn't ready.

But aside from that, they had all the excitement of their lives shifting towards this newness, we're almost actually famous, things are happening and fast and Dan had just told Phil to enjoy it and lived a life he could never have dreamt of having. Lived it as well as he could until they started the gaming channel, going to Japan, until the idea of a book, a tour had arisen, his own popularity rising on Youtube, and sometime in maybe late September or early October of 2014 was when it had first started, the feeling of being rushed headlong into something, of missing something at the same time.

2014 was the year of finally not caring enough and being mature enough to ignore the idiotic section of the phandom and letting himself _be_ with Phil again, where he'd put aside the pretense and lies of how they'd met, of how they were just friends, where he'd let it become clear again how much Phil meant to him.

The feeling of losing out, the feeling that things aren't quite right, that he's lost himself a bit in the process of making all these things, as if he's started to give out more than he's got to give and is coming apart at the seams.

2015 was such a hectic year with so much to do and it's coming down to a close and Dan's tired. The tour's over, they're home, and he wants to sleep. But more than that, he wants to regain whatever it is he's lost, he wants to make this deep-seated ache inside himself that tells him things are wrong, he's missed out, he's doing too much, his life is just off somehow, he wants to shake free of it.

Phil's noticed, of course. Phil's been more tactile than ever with him and somehow, that's part of it. Phil's concerned about Dan, who's been quieter lately, who in private has been shut off. Their intimate moments are lesser so.

He just wants to be alone right now and keenly knows he wants nothing more than to _not_ be alone. He's a conflicted mess.

He's exhausted. He feels brittle. He thinks he might snap at the seams, overstuffed and threadbare simultaneously.

The future looms in front of him and it seems massive. He supposes it's been a while since he's had an existential crisis and he's sure the fans would get a kick out of it, they'd all show their support but they'd laugh all the more, because he's of course portrayed them as a humorous aspect of his life.

Of course, it's not so humorous right now. He's had so much going on and now the future is in front of him and maybe they can have a bit of a break compared to everything they've done. They've only got the radio show once a month, livestreams when they feel like it, gaming and personal videos when they feel like it.

There's no set schedule besides the radio show. He can breathe again. But still, his chest feels tight and the future is right there and it's the near-future, of tomorrow, what might I do, should I make a video and the distant future, the future of planning, where will we be in a year, the idea of coming out maybe, maybe in 2016, is it time, will they be ready, will they be strong enough for it, the idea of down the road past that, marriage, that's so mammoth of a concept and it feels like it might just come rushing up on him too.

The idea of forwarding their lives together in private, of buying a home where they can have a pet because they both want a pet, the definitiveness of that, and Dan wants all that, he knows he wants all that, but right now he's tired and worn out and he's thinking about these things that feel like they're staring him in the face.

The idea of not just a pet but a kid. Dan's talked about wanting kids in the past and he knows Phil's expressed interest in it too. They've talked over the years, not so much when they first started dating, definitely not during 2012, when the future was defineable only as far as sometimes when their lease was up, or what would happen if they broke up before that, sometimes only the idea of weeks or even days.

The future seems ominous somehow, all together too big and right there, because eventually all these things will happen, coming out, marriage, buying a house, getting a pet, adopting a kid, and these might be milestones that are still five years down the road but it seems like it's all right there and Dan's overwhelmed.

He goes to bed that night too early, not tired, and lies in bed unsleeping and head whirring away with these thoughts, feeling empty and hollow and bitter, and when Phil comes to bed, Phil kisses the back of his neck and Dan turns to face him but he doesn't, as much as he wants, press his face to Phil's chest, he doesn't even kiss back, and he can register, eyes adjusted to the darkness, barely visible, the surprise of no returned affection and the fact that Dan's just lying there, but Phil says nothing, just closes his eyes.

Dan finally finds sleep that night. The night after, and the night after that. The feeling lingers, chugging along inside him, building up, and it goes on through Thanksgiving, until he finally snaps in early December, and it feels like a tiny little snip of a thin string that releases everything, when he slams out of their office and into the lounge and flings himself perhaps overdramatically but _fuck it all_ onto the sofa and practically jars Phil from where he's sat himself.

“Dan?” Phil asks.

“It's all too much and I'm fucking exhausted and everything feels wrong,” Dan snarls. He's angry. He's sucked it down for too long and it's festered inside him and now it's coming out, acrid and acrimonious.

“What? What are you talking – are you talking about us? Are you breaking up with me?” Phil's mind goes there obviously because Dan has been distant as hell for these last couple of weeks, they haven't had sex more than twice and Dan's barely been there for it, lost in his own head, much like he has been through all his waking hours, where he's felt off no matter what he did, couldn't shake free of it.

“No, I'm not breaking up with you. We're okay. We're fine.” That much is true. Phil's a constant. He's not shifting, or if he is, they live together and they share everything together and the shifts are so subtle and slow that Dan can shift with him and Phil is an anchor holding him in place in his jumbled mess of a brain and life right now.

“Then what's – what's going on?” Phil asks. He reaches over and touches Dan's knee and Dan flinches a little. He doesn't want to be touched and he wants to crawl into Phil's lap and bury his face into Phil's chest and cry and he _really_ aches inside, the crying would be barely cathartic but it would be cathartic none the less but he can't, he's sucking that down and away because he can't.

“My life is all mucked up, it feels. I don't feel like I have a handle on it. I feel like everything's slipping away from me and there's so much to do and like I've lost myself and missed out on opportunities and all the ones we've been given are too much and I'm exhausted and nothing feels right. I feel all hollow.”

Phil looks at him quietly. Dan continues, softer. “You ever get that ache that something's just not right? An ache of regret and confusion and fear and loss? This entire last year, I've had that ache inside me and it's been building up more and more and I feel like I'm losing myself and like I'm living a life that's all wrong somehow. I'm only twenty-four, Phil,” he sighs, tired. “We've done so much. I feel like it's too much. And then I think about the future, our future, and it seems like too much, it seems ominous and that's all wrong because-” he breaks off here and bites back the first lump of a sob that wants to break free.

“Since we got good again, since it became apparent we were gonna make it, that you're the one, you're going to be my forever, you've never seemed ominous and _you_ don't seem ominous now, but the future does, the idea of what us together holds, it all seems like it's just rushing up on me and our lives have been hurtling forward at breakneck speed for the last year and it's like I haven't been able to get my footing and now I feel like I still can't, and it just all feels wrong.”

Dan slumps against the side of the couch, letting out his breath in a hard whoosh. He feels Phil's hand creep up his back, tangle into the hair at the back of his neck, stroke.

“It's okay, bear,” Phil tells him. That's what makes him really break. His nickname, and Phil doesn't use it the way he used to, only for their most intimate and tender moments, and of course Phil knows he needed it when Dan didn't even know, but he breaks then, and his chest hurts, and his first tears start to fall and his breath hitches, he gets all snotty as he cries, chest heaving and stomach hurting from the sobs, and he curls up into himself.

Phil doesn't curl up around him. He doesn't pull Dan to him. Dan probably would push him away if he tried and he thinks Phil knows that because Phil knows Dan as well as Dan knows himself and Dan knows Phil the same way.

Phil just keeps one hand on Dan's back, that anchor that Dan desperately latches onto, until Dan's cried himself out and sits up, goes to the bathroom, washes his face and splashes cold water on his eyes, which are red and puffy and sting slightly.

His lip is raw from where he's chewed it as of late, and bitten down on it during his crying, trying to fight the noises away, and it's red and swollen. His hair is mussed up and he looks a mess.

He goes back into the lounge and sits next to Phil again, energy depleted, boneless, unable to move, feeling like there's a ton weight on his chest making it hard to breathe. “It just all feels wrong,” Dan mumbles.

“D'you want to go away? We could book a vacation, just the two of us, take a week to ourselves to just relax. Shut out the rest of the world, we could even turn off our phones and laptops and get away from social media, actually leave all that behind too for a bit.” Phil suggests soothingly.

“No, that's the exact opposite of what I want. I don't want to do any more traveling. We just got done traveling. I'm tired. I want to stay here and not go anywhere unless I absolutely have to.” Dan says, the angry ugly ache inside him swelling at the idea of a vacation, how horrendous it would be. “I wouldn't be able to enjoy it.”

“Alright,” Phil says, mollifying him. “Can I help at all?” He's not angry or upset by Dan's rejection. Aside from his initial fear of Dan breaking up with him, which were justified by Dan's mood and actions as of late, he's not shown any sign of negative response whatsoever.

“No,” Dan sighs. He wishes that Phil could. “It's just gonna take time. I don't know, I mean, it's not like we have a lot going on right now. It's just that we've had so much going on. It just – it needs time. I need to breathe again. Not have a thousand things to do. I miss it when it was quieter, slower. I didn't realise back then...” he trails off.

Phil reaches over, smooths down Dan's fringe. “I know. I knew, though, and I wondered if you might one day and how you'd take it all. I wish it wasn't like this.”

“It's just gonna take time,” Dan repeats. “I hate not knowing how long or how to fix it because I just need to feel like I don't have everything on my plate all at once and I don't know how long it'll take, to actually feel like I've gotten a break.”

Phil's quiet, not sure of what to say for a minute. “Just – if you need to open up, if you want to talk or let me in, you know I'm here.” He finally speaks.

“Yeah. I know.” Dan picks at a pill on his jeans and gets up. “I'm going to bed.” It's early but he's actually fucking tired for once – that cry did him some good after all and he feels empty but a little better right now, just a fraction, a smidgen, and he clings to it because he needs to remember what it feels like to not have the burden of this awfulness that's been hanging on him too long.

He sleeps heavily and when he wakes up, he doesn't get a reprieve. It settles immediately when he opens his eyes, the exhaustion of living, of wondering if it's all going too fast and if his life is passing him by, is he going to catch enough of it.

He just needs time is all. But until he can breathe again, it's going to ache inside him, and he's tired of it, but there's nothing he can do, so he just swings his legs out of bed and goes to the kitchen, makes a mug of coffee, stares into the cup and hangs on tight while it all washes over him and overwhelms him for now.

 


End file.
